


i’ll sing from the piano (with my lover on my mind)

by house_laurie



Category: Just Music Entertainment, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Baby Yoongi, Bottom Yoongi, Daddy Kink, Daddy/Baby, Dd/lb, Dom/sub, Domestic Fluff, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Non-Graphic Smut, daddy Vasco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 17:14:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6916045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/house_laurie/pseuds/house_laurie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Does daddy know how to play piano?”</p><p>“I do, baby. Why do you ask?”</p><p>“Can daddy play something for baby?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	i’ll sing from the piano (with my lover on my mind)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fallingmin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingmin/gifts).



> i blame catherine for converting me to the holy church of yoonvasco.
> 
> and this picture vvv

 

Positioned near the clear glass doors leading out to the small porch that came with his daddy’s lavish apartment is a gleaming grand piano.

A black leather bench sits under the piano, colored the same as the marvelous instrument Yoongi never dared touch before. He was mostly afraid that if he did, he’d accidentally break it and then his daddy would be so disappointed in him. His daddy got it as a gift from a friend when he won some kind of award, though Yoongi didn’t know what. Yoongi remembers coming to his daddy’s apartment for the first time so many months ago -- or was it years? Yoongi couldn’t really remember because he’d moved in with him not long after that first night -- and being afraid to look at the instrument let alone breathe around it for fear that he’d tarnish the polish or break the bench.

Even though his daddy never plays it, the piano’s lid is still propped up, countless music sheets buried under the leather seat of the bench that also served as storage for compositions that were complete but hadn’t been memorized yet. The fall board on the piano is kept down so the keys are protected from dust and any other potential hazards but is never locked so if Yoongi wanted to, he could sit down and start playing.

Daddy never said he couldn’t touch the piano, either.

Ever since he woke up that morning surrounded by his army of stuffies, everything from regular teddy bears and bunnies to some more unique ones like blue dolphins and penguins and his most favorite being the two pastel pink kawaii alpacassos his daddy bought him for his birthday last year, Yoongi has wanted nothing more than to sit down at that bench and run his fingers over the ivory keys. And maybe even play some songs that he learned in the time spent with daddy in the studio.

He was motivated enough that he changed out of the tank top he wore to bed in exchange for a pair of worn leggings that were way more comfortable than jeans and one of his daddy’s long sleeved white shirts, shrugging on a green bomber jacket over his outfit because the apartment was cold even with the heat practically blasting through the apartment before taking a good amount of time to make his bed and arrange his army of stuffies against the fluffed up pillows.

Each stuffy gets a kiss from Yoongi before he moves on to the next one until they’re all huddled up together and Yoongi smiles, grabbing his favorite one (the pink alpacasso) before stumbling off to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

He grabs his own toothbrush from where it sits in the cup next to daddy’s, the pink-and-purple toothbrush clutched between long fingers as Yoongi brushed his teeth and quickly finding its way back into the toothbrush cup sitting in the cabinet. yoongi even takes a few moments flatten his messy hair down by running his wet fingers through it, smiling to himself when he recalls the time his daddy told him,

 _“You look so nice when you keep your bangs out of your eyes,”_ and grabs a hair clip with a little plastic flower attached to the end off the sink and uses it to hold back his hair.

Daddy would be so happy to see Yoongi styling his hair the way the older man liked.

And since it’ll be hours before daddy comes home from work, Yoongi decides to make his way over to the piano sitting in the corner of the living room, sitting down in the middle of the too-long bench, fingers itching to touch the keys. He’s never felt so desperate to play before, the feeling unlike anything he’s felt in a while.

The only thing he could relate it to was the time when his daddy kept him on his toes all week before taking him out to his favorite pancake house as a present for being a good boy.

Yoongi was always a good boy but Vasco liked to treat him by taking him out to dinner when he was especially good.

And Vasco was the best daddy he ever had.

The first thing Yoongi does -- besides set down his alpacasso stuffy in his lap -- is lift the fall board, revealing the ivory keys sitting underneath that practically gleam against the soft light filtering in through the curtains.

He straightens his back, recalling the few lessons he received as a child on how to sit and to position his hands. He arches his hands and curls his fingers so the tips linger over the white keys, already feeling his body slipping back into the proper posture for playing piano and memories of scales and songs rushing back into his head, and spreads his legs so both feet are properly positioned to push down on the pedals when needed.

For the start, at least until he gets back into the flow of playing, Yoongi doesn’t plan on using them.

Because his daddy likes to talk about music sometimes, Yoongi remembers scales far better than if he tried to wrack his brain for those notes that were ordered in a certain way that he was supposed to learn until he could do them blindfolded if he wanted to learn how to play well. The only reason why he knows them is because of his gentle daddy, not the strict piano teacher who glared at him whenever he made a mistake.

 _“Scales can go up or down and you’ll know it’s going up because it’ll sound like you’re going up an elevator and each note sounds a little higher than the last,”_ his daddy had explained to him once while running his fingers through Yoongi’s soft hair, _“and when you’re playing a descending scale, it’s just the other way around. Then the elevator is going down. Does that make sense, baby?”_

“Yes, daddy, it does,” Yoongi answers as if his daddy is sitting right there next to him at this very moment, cheeks becoming flushed with a pretty shade of pink that matches his rosy hair.

Almost without even realizing it, Yoongi’s fingers settle in the middle of the keyboard and shakily play out a D-major scale, the only he remembers at the moment. _D-E-F-G-A-B-C-D_ and then back down until the low D fades out into the quiet air. He finds it easy for the fingers of his right hand to glide across the keys, pressing against the ivory like a master who knows the positions blindfolded with one hand tied behind his back, heart fluttering in his tiny chest as he finally adds his right hand to the piece.

 _D-E-F-G-A-B-C-D_ and _B-C-D-E-F-G-A-B_ meld together, the lower single octave complementing the slightly higher, and even when his fingers slip and he plays the wrong key or accidentally touches the black keys, Yoongi keeps playing, occasionally smiling down at his alpacasso stuffy because he’s got an audience and he feels like he’s playing a sold-out concert.

The thought of playing for his daddy comes to mind and Yoongi abruptly lifts his fingers off the keys so he can hug his stuffy. Without him playing the piano, the apartment is silent, the only audible noises being Yoongi’s soft breathing and the ticking of the wall clock in the kitchen. It’s getting a little unnerving so Yoongi stands up, gently closing the fall board so daddy’s piano will stay nice and pretty, and curls up on the couch with his stuffy. He curls up under the Kumamon-themed blanket sitting nearby which smells like daddy’s expensive cologne and takes to sucking on his favorite blue paci.

The tv remote quickly finds its way into Yoongi’s clutches as he flips through the channels in search of _Pororo the Little Penguin,_ the pink-haired boy wanting nothing more than to watch cartoons until he dozed off or until daddy came home, whichever came first.

When he doesn’t find any channels showing _Pororo_ , Yoongi settles for _Curious George_ instead, which is just as fun to watch. In fact, Yoongi enjoyed George’s antics more than the trouble Pororo would get into but what he loved more than anything else was watching cartoons while cuddling with daddy. Whenever daddy cuddled with him and kissed him all over his face so he could see the way Yoongi blushed all pretty, Yoongi would feel so safe and loved that nothing else could be better than his daddy loving him except for when daddy would fuck his brains out until his thighs shake really hard and his voice is completely gone.

And when they were too tired to play anymore, his daddy would kiss him silly and pet his head until Yoongi fell asleep in his daddy’s arms.

When daddy comes home, Yoongi’s almost fallen asleep but seeing his daddy’s face makes the pink-haired boy perk right up, dashing into his daddy’s arms with a gleeful _“daddy!”_ , paci and stuffy forgotten on the couch.

“Hey, baby,” Vasco coos, pecking the younger boy’s pretty lips, “were you a good boy today?”

“Yes, daddy,” Yoongi beams happily, earning himself another kiss to the lips. His flushed cheeks turn an even darker pink, Vasco cooing at how cute and lovely he is.

“Daddy’s really proud of you,” and the elder man’s lips curl into a smile when Yoongi pecks his cheek, looking away from his daddy with slight embarrassment.

Vasco shrugs off his coat and hangs it up in the coat closet, leaving him in a black t-shirt that clung to his muscular figure and reminded Yoongi of the countless tattoos on his daddy’s skin. It’s enough that Yoongi wraps his arms around his daddy’s waist, cheek pressed to his daddy’s strong chest and this earns him a loving kiss to his head. Vasco kisses his cheeks and nose and then lets go of Yoongi so he could go make himself some coffee. Even  while he’s doing this, the pink-haired boy clings to him, cuddled up against his back as he tells him about his day.

“Yoongi woke up and made his bed, Daddy. And Yoongi arranged all his stuffies on his bed.”

“That’s really good, baby. Daddy’s proud of you.”

“And…” but Yoongi trails off as the acrid smell of coffee fills the air, stinging his nostrils so badly that Yoongi buries his nose in his daddy’s back, trying to distract himself with his daddy’s sweet scent of expensive cologne and cinnamon cookies because he really hates the way black coffee smells.

“Daddy,” Yoongi whines, tugging on the hem of his daddy’s shirt. Vasco sets down his cup of coffee and turns around to face him, one hand finding its way into Yoongi’s rosy hair -- it’s one of the many ways his baby grounded himself when his delicate nymph was feeling a little more sensitive than usual.

“Yes, baby?”

“U-Uh, well…” Yoongi murmurs, fidgeting with the bit of loose thread hanging from his sleeve as a way to avoid eye contact with his daddy without looking like he was avoiding him on purpose.

“You can tell me anything, baby boy.”

“Does daddy know how to play piano?”

“I do, baby. Why do you ask?”

“Can daddy play something for baby?”

Yoongi receives a kiss to his forehead, nose, and lips, his cheeks becoming flushed a pretty shade of pink that only darkens as his daddy takes his hand and leads him over to the grand piano located directly outside the kitchen. Vasco lets Yoongi sit down on the bench before taking a seat right next to him, his steaming coffee sitting on a small, round table near the piano but out of reach so it wouldn’t spill. His coffee is forgotten in favor of opening the fall board and cracking his knuckles and suddenly, melodies flood Yoongi’s ear, so sweet on his ears that he’s so mesmerized as he watches his daddy’s fingers glide across the keys with practiced ease.

He leans his head against Vasco’s shoulder, eyes half-lidded as he admires the way black and ivory keys are pushed by his daddy’s long, graceful fingers, creating sweet melodies and ballads with just the pushes of his fingers.

“You’ve heard Für Elise before, right?” Vasco murmurs against Yoongi’s head, his baby’s strawberry hair tickling his lips, and Yoongi nods.

“Yes, daddy,” and he gasps when Vasco lets go of the keys, silence abruptly filling the air now that his daddy’s magical fingers were no longer manipulating the keys, to wrap them around his wrists before guiding his hands to rest against the keys.

“Daddy… I don’t know how to play that song.”

“It’s okay, baby. Just play.”

Yoongi swallows and slowly presses down on the keys, cheeks burning a deep pink when his daddy’s left hand suddenly sneaks its way under his right hand and it feels like they’re playing together. It's like that one time they were at a party and Vasco asked him to stand on daddy's shoes before dancing with him. His daddy’s smell feels so strong now, confidence brimming like a gentle flame that beats down on Yoongi in gentle waves and said male feels so good right now that he never wants this moment to end.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” and all previous nervousness dissipates from Yoongi's bones like a breath of air, being replaced by confidence that practically brims from the smaller man like an overflowing glass of water. It's not at all scary at all, though, not when his daddy's touch is grounding him.

His daddy’s hands glide across the keys with practiced ease, like he knows all the keys from memory, and he’s memorized so many songs that Yoongi hopes he can ask his daddy to play more songs for him in the future. Yoongi even adds his own touch to the song, clumsily following along with what his daddy was doing to the best of his ability until the song ends with a few beautiful flourishes that make his heart hammer in his chest.

“Daddy, that was beautiful.”

“Do you want to hear another song, baby?”

“Yes, please, daddy!”

“When you ask so nicely,” Vasco coos, sneaking a peck to Yoongi’s cheek, said boy’s cheeks flushing a deep pink that almost rivaled his cotton-candy hair.

The new song his daddy decides to play is one that Yoongi recognizes as a minor scale, the song so light and pretty that if he wasn’t watching his daddy’s hand dance over the keys, he would have been convinced that Vasco was playing the softest keys located at the very end of the piano. His hand comes close enough, though, and Yoongi hiccups when, instead of using his other hand to play bass clef notes, his daddy takes his hand so he could tangle their fingers together.

“I wrote this for you, baby,” Vasco says, voice so soft that it doesn’t take Yoongi’s away from the beautiful melody filling his ears and the younger man feels his breath hitch in his throat because this is one of the nicest gifts he’s ever gotten from anyone.

The fact that it’s from daddy makes it as great of a gift like when he got that rabbit stuffy he wanted for months and to show his appreciation, Yoongi squeezes Vasco’s hand and leans his head against the older man’s shoulder.

“D-Daddy, Yoongi loves it…” the younger man whispers once the song is over and Vasco smiles.

“Anything for my baby.”

“Daddy…”

“What does my baby want?”

“Yoongi missed Daddy and wants to play.”

Vasco finds he can never say no to Yoongi, not when his little boy is always so good for him and deserves the best for always being so adorable, polite, and sweet. He scoops Yoongi off the bench and carries him to bed, Yoongi sighing as he feels his back touch the cool sheets. His daddy hovers over him, hands on either side of Yoongi’s head and face so close to the younger’s that he can see how Vasco’s dark eyes are glossed over with want. Vasco’s fingers slip under the waistband, tugging his leggings down and trailing kisses down his baby’s soft, quivering legs.

“Daddy,” Yoongi whimpers. He can feel tears pricking at his eyelids, bucking up to his daddy’s touch when he feels the older man’s mouth trailing close to the hem of his lacy pink panties.

His daddy doesn’t tease long, tossing the delicate fabric aside along with Yoongi’s jacket and shirt until his baby is lying against the sheets completely exposed to the slightly chilly air with cheeks flushed as pink as his strawberry hair and limbs shaking. His little cock curves against his quivering belly, so red and silvery precum pooling from the tip, and he gasps when Vasco kisses the base, bucking up to his daddy’s touch.

“I love you, baby. You’re so good, so good,” Vasco purrs. “Daddy will take care of you.”

All Yoongi can do is toss his head back when he feels his daddy’s masterful fingers dancing across his bare skin, lighting his body ablaze by kisses and slow, deep thrusts that make him cry out his daddy’s name until he’s too hoarse to utter another syllable. Yoongi feels too warm, blanketed by his daddy’s warmth hovering all around him and feeling like he’s a lit firecracker on the verge of exploding, and finds he can only cling to his daddy as he reaches his end. Vasco doesn’t say anything about him cumming without permission, only whispering in his ear how he’s a good boy and pumping him through his orgasm until the oversensitivity is too much and he’s shying away from his daddy’s touch.

And Yoongi can only smile when he feels daddy fill him up, so warm and sticky, pulling his daddy down for a kiss so he can show his appreciation for the older man.

“Yoongi loves daddy,” he whispers against Vasco’s mouth, glossy eyes so blown that Vasco feels like he’s drowning in the younger’s charcoal pools and he flashes Yoongi a toothy smile that reminds said boy of the sun.

“Daddy loves you too, baby.”

And he repeats this long after Yoongi’s become too tired to go on, said boy lying limp against the sheets while Vasco cleans him up using a soft baby wipe, not wanting to let Yoongi sleep before he was clean. The little strawberry was too tired to sit up long enough for Vasco to clean him up so he decides it’s better to let Yoongi sleep, the boy cuddled up under the freshly changed sheets with his favorite stuffy clutched in his arms.

Yoongi’s so close to falling asleep, eyelids so heavy but he’s fighting against it so he can admire his daddy while he cleans himself up with another wipe, tossing both of them in the nearby wastebasket once he’s done.

“Daddy…”

“Yes, baby?”

“Cuddle with Yoongi?” the boy asks, batting his eyelashes at Vasco rather flirtatiously and the elder man climbs in under the covers just like he asks, arms finding their way around the younger’s dainty waist.

“Did you enjoy yourself, pretty boy?”

“Yes, daddy. Yoongi had lots of fun. Thank you.”

Vasco leans over Yoongi, mouth coming to cover his little strawberry’s for a chaste kiss and the younger’s cheeks color a pretty shade of red that resembles his bruised lips. Yoongi can feel Vasco stroking his hair, gently smoothing his messy locks out of his face, and it only adds to his sleepiness. To add to his baby’s comfort, Vasco reaches over and grabs the blue paci sitting on the nightstand, easing it between Yoongi’s soft lips, said boy staring up at him with big, sparkling eyes filled with nothing but adoration.

“Sleep, baby,” and as if they were magic words, Yoongi’s eyes flutter shut before he falls still, having drifted off into the dreamworld.

Contentment paints Yoongi’s gorgeous, youthful features and Vasco tugs Yoongi just a little closer until his little strawberry’s cheek rests comfortably on his chest, soft, warm breaths fanning out against his skin. He closes off the space between him and Yoongi to kiss his baby’s soft head and with tendrils of cotton candy tickling his nose, he decides this is where he always wants to be.

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first time i've written dd/lb so please be gentle (and let me know if i did anything wrong) 
> 
> thanks for reading ♥
> 
> (p.s. yoongi is 23, vasco is 36)


End file.
